


Boys and their Toys (or How Youtube Became David Cook's Best Friend)

by amfiguree



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Handcuffs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 21:40:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amfiguree/pseuds/amfiguree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Archie's sprawled out on the floor, limbs stretched out at awkward angles. David's rolling chair (Archie's favorite) is beside him, an odd inverted v-shape on the floor. Archie's clutching his laptop to his chest, fingers going white-knuckled from the pressure of holding it shut. "Hi Cook!" Archie says, brightly. "You're home!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boys and their Toys (or How Youtube Became David Cook's Best Friend)

David's had to do about, oh, a _billion_ interviews this morning, and then another three thousand in the evening, and then an entire _show_ , so he's pretty much ready to collapse face-first into bed when he gets home.  
  
Seeing Archie's sneakers parked (neatly, always neatly) outside his apartment puts a little bit of a monkey wrench in that plan, though.   
  
Not that David's complaining.  
  
He's grinning as he kicks his shoes off and comes all the way inside. "Arch?" he calls, as he tosses his key ring onto the dining table. "Honey, I'm home!"  
  
David hears a second of frantic scrambling come from inside his study, and then a loud, unmistakable, "Cook?"  
  
The crash that follows is loud enough to bring down half of David's house. And the, "Oh my gosh!" that accompanies it has David lunging for the door with a wince, calling Archie's name as he shoves it open.   
  
He stops cold inside the doorway. "Uh," he says. Monosyllabic speech is really Archie's specialty, though, so he tries again. "David? You okay?"  
  
Archie's sprawled out on the floor, limbs stretched out at awkward angles. David's rolling chair (Archie's favorite) is beside him, an odd inverted v-shape on the floor. Archie's clutching his laptop to his chest, fingers going white-knuckled from the pressure of holding it shut. "Hi Cook!" Archie says, brightly. "You're home!"  
  
"I'm home," David mimics, barely managing to smother a grin. He reaches a hand down to Archie. "What are you doing on my floor?"  
  
"Oh, I, um," Archie begins. He trails off as, instead of accepting David's hand, he begins to struggle to his feet on his own. Which wouldn't be so much of a feat if he didn't insist on holding on to his laptop with both hands.   
  
"Okay," David says slowly, mouth still quirked. "What's going on?"  
  
"Nothing!" Archie protests, as he - _finally!_ \- makes it to his feet. "I wasn't, um -- nothing!"  
  
David almost laughs when Archie's fingers twitch. He always makes it so easy - but there'll be time to look into it later - and fuck if David hasn't missed that. "Come here," he commands, then adds, "Without the laptop, Arch."  
  
Archie looks torn for a second, but it only takes a moment of looking at David for him to put the laptop away (he drops it on David's desk with a loud clatter), and then David finds himself with an armful of warm, happy boyfriend.  
  
"Hi," David says, his voice muffled in Archie's hair.  
  
"Hi," Archie breathes, into David's neck, arms curled tight around him. And then he tips his head up and his nose bumps against David's chin, and David dips his head a little, and slants his mouth over Archie's, and then they're kissing.   
  
He puts a hand on Archie's neck, brushes the skin there with his thumb, and Archie makes a faint noise of approval, and hangs on for another second when David tries to pull away.  
  
"Guess you missed me, huh?" David says, on a laugh, when they finally break apart.  
  
Archie just looks up at him, hopefully, and says, "Less talking?"   
  
David rolls his eyes, grinning, but he lets Archie pull him down again. "I'm starting to think I'm a bad influence on you, Archuleta," he murmurs, against Archie's mouth. "Now you've gone all sex fiend on me."  
  
Archie's skin heats up beneath his palm, and David bites back his grin. "Um," Archie says, "If I say yes, can we keep--?"  
  
David's startled into a laugh, then, warm and loud, and Archie smiles at him for a second before reaching for him and kissing him some more. (Which isn't that surprising, really; Archie's always a magnet for contact when they've been apart more than a few days. It's something David's quickly gotten used to - and probably instilled.)  
  
David leans into him, and Archie goes with it readily, just follows David's lead when he takes a couple of steps forward, till he has Archie backed up against his desk. They kiss the whole way, slow and thorough, and Archie makes a quiet, quiet sound when David licks into the roof of his mouth.  
  
"How was the trip?" David asks, moving to nip at Archie's lower lip. He starts to reach for the laptop with his free hand.  
  
"Um," Archie breathes.  
  
"I heard you had a lot of fun in Singapore," he continues, and feels Archie shiver when his breath ghosts hot over Archie's skin. "Yeah?"  
  
Archie's only answer is an impatient little... _mewl_. God, but David loves riling him up like this. For a second, he almost drags Archie into the bedroom, and considers giving up on the laptop altogether.   
  
"Did you come here straight from the airport?" he asks, in between a soft kiss to the underside of Archie's jaw, and another to the hollow of his throat.  
  
"Mmm," Archie sighs, his eyes fluttering shut--  
  
And David opens the laptop with a grin and a quick flick of his wrist.  
  
It's... him. A video of him, at least. On youtube. "Uh," David says, in confusion. "Arch, were you youtubing--" And then he recognizes the lady interviewing him. " _Oh_."  
  
Archie's eyes snap open, and he whirls around, clearly horrified. "Oh my gosh! _Cook_! You are totally not supposed to be, like, _ambushing_ my laptop while I'm all, whatever, distracted!"  
  
David's not even really paying attention anymore. "Archie," he says, one eyebrow quirked. He braces his arms on the desk on either side of Archie when it looks like he might try to, uh, run. To the bathroom. And lock himself in it. Again.  
  
Archie's neck is flushed again, and he fidgets a little, not quite looking David in the eye. David just waits, watching him patiently for a second. Eventually, Archie cracks. "Um," he tries, "I was just youtubing you?"  
  
"Uh huh," David says. He tries to stop his mouth from curving.  
  
"And, um," Archie pauses, and clears his throat. "I... found this?"  
  
David studies him another second, and Archie's eyes start to twitch. "Right," David says, then, pushing off from the table - and away from Archie - with a grin. "Yeah, okay." He scrubs a hand through his hair. "You know, I'm actually starving? Did you manage to--"  
  
"You don't," Archie interrupts (and David would have to be three shades past tone-deaf not to hear the hope in his voice, okay), and David pauses. "You didn't keep them, did you? The, um."  
  
"Oh," David says, with a nonchalance that sounds painful, even to his ears. He stomach flips over as he turns around, and pulls the handcuffs out of his pocket. "You mean these?"   
  
Archie's ears start to _burn_ , and for a second he looks like he hopes he's invisible. Then he nods. "Um," he says, bravely. "Yes?"  
  
David's mouth goes dry. "Of course I kept them," he says, and Jesus Christ, but watching the way Archie's eyes dart from his belt to the handcuffs and back again is almost enough to convince David to give up the game.  
  
"I was thinking you could, um," Archie says, and David watches in fascination as Archie's swallows, hard, like he has the words but he can't quite believe he's about to say them. "You could show me? How, um, how those work?"  
  
David stares. His heart is suddenly in his throat, and he'd be lying if he said that didn't just drive him absolutely fucking nuts. "Give me your hand," he says, finally. His voice is lower, gruffer, than he means for it to be.  
  
Archie doesn't even hesitate, and for a second that's the only thing David can think about. He steps towards Archie, again, so close that David can feel the scratch and pull of the denim of Archie's jeans. Archie looks up at him, mouth parted, softly, and David's suddenly giddy with the rush of _want_ in his stomach.   
  
"Like this," David says, voice quiet, as he snaps one of the cool metal cuffs - now warmed by his skin, and later by Archie's - onto Archie's outstretched wrist. He doesn't miss the sharpness of Archie's inhale, and he presses their foreheads together, murmuring, "Easy, easy," as he guides Archie onto the floor, till Archie's splayed out beneath him, both arms stretched above his head.  
  
David reaches for the other cuff as he brings Archie's hands behind the table leg. He brushes his thumb, then mouth, gently over Archie's free wrist (and he feels Archie's pulse racing, like the beat of a butterfly's wings, relentless, and his own heartbeat spikes, like it's keeping rhythm) before snapping the cuff shut around it.  
  
Archie's trembling beneath him, fists clenching and uncurling, and David slides back down his body, presses another open-mouthed kiss to Archie's neck. "Okay?" he asks, one hand running idly over Archie's stomach.   
  
"Cook," Archie whispers, eyes wide. He's completely vulnerable. "Okay."  
  
The low simmering in David's stomach sparks to life, the flame _burning_ in David's blood as he crushes their mouths together. For a long moment, it's like he can't fucking _breathe_. Not without this, without the pressure of Archie's lips, and the warmth of his skin, and this, being together, _this_.   
  
It's wet, and hot, and _sloppy_ , both of them impatient and - it's fucking _amazing_ , he wants-- but then Archie tries to twist up into him, and David pulls back, mouth tugging up when Archie pants, "oh my gosh, _Cook_!"  
  
Archie tries to raise his hands, uselessly, and the look on his face - that _desperation_ , just for him, _fuck_ \- makes David choke back a groan. "Not so fast," David whispers (Jesus, he has to whisper, he doesn't trust his voice), as he nips Archie's earlobe. Archie turns his face to him, lips still parted, and David puts some distance between them before he gives in.  
  
"Not so fast," he repeats, still quiet, and he leans down to mouth at the bare strip of skin just above Archie's waistband, watching as Archie's eyes glaze over, pulling back just as Archie raises his hips. Archie's starting to shiver again, helplessly, and David feels it right down to his _fingers_ as he slowly, _slowly_ raises himself back up Archie's body.   
  
He keeps their lips a breath apart (it feels like a _mile_ ). Archie looks up at him, swallows hard, but doesn't try to lift his head. "I've got plans for you," David promises, smiling, and Archie jerks, a small, small sound escaping past his clenched jaw.   
  
  
  
In the morning, David will wake up first, still curled around Archie on the floor beside the study table. They'll still have their shirts on, though Archie's will be shucked up halfway, and their jeans will be pooled together somewhere across the room.  
  
The handcuffs will be broken. Archie's wrists will be rubbed raw, skin an angry, chafed red. David will take Archie's hands, gently, and hide his smile in a soft, soft kiss to those bruises. The ones that say _David Archuleta has a secret kink_.   
  
The ones that say _mine_.


End file.
